


Written Ramblings

by tea0W0stache



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) is a BITCH, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), References to Depression, Schizophrenia, Technoblade Has Braided Hair (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28401546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea0W0stache/pseuds/tea0W0stache
Summary: Techno gets some things off his chest.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 197





	Written Ramblings

The torch on the wall flickered as Techno flipped another page, his quill scratching along the paper as he scribbled out to-do lists and such. Tommy slept on his bed - the poor kid looked worse than him - and snored quietly as the fire crackled. Techno closed the book, setting it on top of a stack of other books that had been lying around.

Running a head through his hair, he sets the crown on the armor stand, grabbing his gold wrist bracelets and latching them on quickly. With his tail twitching, he unclipped his cloak and hung that up too. Techno glanced back at Tommy, sleeping soundly, and nightmare free.

The piglin huffs, shaking away a memory before it even began. _'Not now,'_ He told himself. _'Now's not the time to be weak.'_

A chorus of the voices in his head tell him he's not weak - he ignores them, like usual. He doesn't have the energy to deal with them right now.

Techno grabs a fresh, unused book from the shelf, and opens it to the first page. His quill hovers over the paper for a few moments, before his hand begins moving on it's own. 

_"Dear Phil,"_

**'Write Write Write-'**

_**'E E E E E E E E E-'** _

_'wRite WrItE-'_

All at once, the voices begin chanting, 'Write, Techno, Write', and at this point, he can't stop himself, even though he desperately wants to.

_"I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sorry that I let Wilbur die, that I couldn't protect Tommy from Dream, or the fate his cursed Government gave him._

_I'm sorry that I can't show everyone what they're doing is wrong. I'm sorry that after all these years, no matter how much you've helped me, taught me to overcome them, I still succumb to the voices._

_Everything I've done in my life, everything I've done for you, for Wilbur, for Tommy, it's all been for naught, hasn't it?_ _No matter how hard I try, I fail to protect you."_

The paper is getting wet. When did he start crying?

_"Even now, I'm listening to them, Phil. The voices beg for me to write, and here I am. I can't stop. Every day they grow louder and louder, and one day, they're going to scream so loud, that I may end up doing something I regret."_

His hand is shaking, yet somehow, he continues to write.

_"Some demand blood. Others demand answers. Then, there are the quiet ones. The ones I can hear most of all - the ones that sound like you. I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending like I am normal, and that everything is alright, because I know it's not, I know it never will be. It hurts Phil. It hurts so much, and I can't stop it. I can never stop it. Please stop it Phil. Stop it, stop it stop stop stop sto-"_

The sentence ends in mended up scribbles, lines that don't form any coherent thought as Techno shuts the book breathlessly. 

Tommy stirs.

The fire crackles.

All that can be heard is Techno's harboured breathing, as he tosses the book into the flames.

The sound of paper and leather burning does nothing to satisfy the sour pit in his chest.

With one last glance at Tommy, Techno climbs up the ladder, and lies in his own bed, the voices quieting down some. 

". . . Goodnight, Chat."

They all respond in unison. 

_**"Goodnight, Technoblade."** _


End file.
